As they secured him onto the stretcher, he grabbed Allison's wrist again, his grip weaker now but still urgent. "Don't... take me... to a hospital," he whispered.
Allison leaned in, her frown deepening. "Why not? You're bleeding out. You need surgery."
His fingers tightened slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers from beneath the curtain of his hair. But he didn't answer. His head fell back against the stretcher, his eyes sliding shut as his strength gave out.
Poppy exchanged a look with Allison, her expression questioning. "What was that about?"
Allison shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I don't know," she said softly. "Let's move," she ordered and they wheeled him towards the elevator.
The ride down was silent, the air thick with tension. The elevators door dinged open, revealing Jonah stepping in from opposite corridor. His broad frame looked even more imposing as he cradled a small girl in his arms.
Allison's breath hitched at the sight of the child. She couldn't have been more than six, her limp body eerily still. Blood soaked through Jonah's uniform, staining his arm and chest. The girl's left arm was missing, the jagged wound hastily wrapped in bloodied bandages.
"She's lost consciousness," Jonah said, his voice grim but steady. "I tried to stabilize her but she's loosing too much blood."
Allison's heart twisted, but she didn't let it show. "Get her in the truck," she instructed, stepping aside to let Jonah pass.
Poppy took one look at the girl and paled. "Oh, God," she murmured, moving quickly to help Jonah.
As they wheeled towards the last paramedic van left, Allison's focus flickered between the man and the girl. Both were critical, but the girl's tiny broken body pulled at her instinct like a magnet.
They reached the van, and Jonah gently laid the girl on a second stretcher inside. Poppy hopped in, immediately working to secure the IV lines and check the girl's vitals.
Allison climbed in beside the man on the stretcher and the door slammed shut. Then the van roared to life. The siren wailed, cutting through the night as they sped towards the hospital.
Allison began updating the hospital with the patient details over the radio. Jonah, seated near the girl, held onto the stretcher to steady it as the ambulance swerved around a corner.
After a while, the man on the stretcher stirred, his hoarse voice cutting through the tense silence. "I said... no hospital. I'll heal later."
Poppy burst into laughter, a loud unrestrained guffaw that echoed in the van like a slap against the tension. "Heal later?" She said, struggling to catch her breath. "What are you, a superhero? You've lost half your blood already. You need a transfusion, not fairy dust."
Allison shot her a withering glare. "Poppy, enough."
Poppy's laughter fizzled into an awkward cough. "Sorry."
Allison leaned closer to the man. "Listen," she said, her tone sharp. "You've got a hole on your side, and you're barely holding on. You're going to the hospital, whether you like it or not."
He growled low in his throat. "The cops... they will ask... questions."
Allison blinked, her brows furrowing. "What are you so afraid of?"
But he didn't answer, his body slumping against the stretcher as his strength gave out again.
The cops and probably few reporters who came out tonight had already dispersed probably trailing the paramedic vans heading to the Haven City hospital as they couldn't get any vital information at the hotel.
Poppy glanced at Allison, her expression uneasy. "You think he's hiding something?"
Allison sighed, rubbing her temple. "Poppy, every single person we've rescued tonight is either half-dead or too traumatized to speak. Hiding something might be the least of their problems."
As the ambulance pulled into the hospital's driveway, a cluster of police vehicles came into view. Officers stood near the emergency entrance, their faces grim as they questioned other paramedics and fee walking survivors.
"Great," Jonah muttered unde this breath. "Looks like the cops are all over this."
Allison bit the inside of her cheeks. This was a standard procedure after an incident as horrifying as what they'd just witnessed. The police needed statements to piece together what had happened, and the paramedics were among the first to provide those details.
Jonah carried the girl inside, his movements careful yet swift. Allison and Poppy followed with the man's stretcher.
"Paramedics!" A uniformed officer called out, striding toward them. "We need to ask you a few questions about the scene."
Allison raised a hand, her tone brisk but polite. "Not now. Our patients need immediate attention. You can talk to us once they're stabilized."
The officer hesitated, glancing at the bloodied man on the stretcher. He frowned as his gaze drifted to his arms. Both were muscular, but what caught his attention were the tattoos. They snaked across his skin in intricate patterns, some abstract, others depicting symbols he couldn't decipher. "What about him? Can he answer any questions?"
Poppy scoffed. "Unless you speak fluent half-dead, I doubt it."
The officer's jaw tightened, but he stepped aside allowing them to push the stretcher through the automatic doors.
Inside, the ER was a flurry of chaos. Nurses and doctors swarmed the room, triaging patients from the incident. Allison quickly briefed a nurse about the man's condition before stepping aside to let the professionals take over.
She turned to find Jonah standing near a counter, his hands on his hips as he watched the girl being wheeled away by two nurses into a ward. Poppy was already at the counter, grabbing water bottles for the team.
The same officer from outside approached Allison again, his notepad in hand. "Ma'am, I understand, it's a busy night, but we need to start gathering details now."
Allison sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Fine," she said. "But make it quick. I still have patients to monitor."
"Thanks." The officer flipped open his notepad and poised his pen. Can you tell me what happened at the scene? Or should I say, briefly describe what you saw?"
Allison glanced toward the ER doors, keeping an eye on the patients being rushed away. "It was chaos," she began, her tone clipped. "The hotel lobby was eerily quiet, but the upper floors told a different story. We found several victims—badly injured, some unconscious—scattered across the rooms and hallways. Most were tortured, as if someone took their time with them. That's all I can say for now."
The officer nodded, jotting down her words. "Did you notice anything unusual? Anything that stood out?"
Allison hesitated, her thoughts flickering back to the man. His warning, his reluctance, the way he seemed to fear something even more than his injuries. "There was one man," she admitted, lowering her voice. "He didn't want to go to the hospital. Kept saying he'd heal on his own. He was... strange."
The officer's brows furrowed. "Strange how?"
She shook her head. "Just... off. Maybe it's shock, but he wasn't like the others. Look, if you want details, you'll have to wait until he's stable enough to talk."
The officer pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded. "Understood. Thank you for your cooperation."
Allison didn't wait for more questions. She turned back toward her team by the ambulance bay.
Once the paramedics handed the patients over to the ER staff, protocol dictated their next steps.
Allison stood by the ambulance, wiping her hands with a sanitizing cloth. Jonah leaned against the vehicle, exhaustion etched into his features. Poppy was rummaging through the supply kit, restocking what they'd used.
"So, what now?" Poppy asked, her voice laced with fatigue. "We head back to base and pretend we didn't just witness a horror movie?"
Allison gave her a pointed look. "We clean the ambulance first. You know the drill."
Poppy groaned dramatically but didn't argue.
The team got to work, spraying disinfectant, wiping down every surface, and disposing of used gloves and bandages. The stretcher, stained with the man's blood, required extra scrubbing.
As they worked, Jonah spoke up. "That little girl... I can't get her out of my head. What kind of monster does that to a child?"
Allison paused, her hand gripping a rag. "I don't know," she admitted. "But whoever it is, they weren't just trying to hurt people. They wanted to send a message."
"Yeah, well, message received loud and clear," Poppy muttered, tossing a soiled cloth into a biohazard bin. "We're all officially creeped out."
When the ambulance was finally clean, the team climbed back inside. Allison took the driver's seat, the engine purring to life.